


Co͟r̷rųp̢t͜i̷o̕n

by Asreoniplier (AsreonInfusion)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Corruption, Demonic Possession, Disturbing Themes, Hypnotism, Manipulation, Other, Reader-Insert, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 06:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20110927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsreonInfusion/pseuds/Asreoniplier
Summary: Sometimes Dark takes a little more from you than you expect.





	Co͟r̷rųp̢t͜i̷o̕n

**Author's Note:**

> I don't feel like this is my _best_ writing... I scribbled the entire thing out in just an hour or so while waiting to board a plane, lmao. (Why does he always pull this shit right before I have an international flight, damnit.) I just wanted to try and capture the moment and the feeling of this idea, so that I have it for reference later if I want to do anything else with it.

He’s brought you into the void before. The darkness is comforting; a place you can be alone, a place where anything and everything is possible. Where he’s filled the endless black with countless galaxies and let them dance around you, where he showed you there was still beauty in the world. In him.

Dark could be quite the gentleman, when he chose.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been _afraid _of the dark.

But something is… off, this time. He’s distant; he has been for a while. And you thought this was just to be his apology, that he would take you to the void and you’d talk, and everything would be back to normal.

So why does it make you nervous?

The black of the void presses in around you, cloying, raising hairs on your arms. Normally it feels so soothingly cool in here, but this evening is and odd mix of both cold and warm that leaves you feeling clammy and uncomfortable.

“Dark…?” He’s still not talking to you.

“Deeper,” is all he says, a low command.

Deeper to the place you always find yourself, deep enough the light from your entry point fades entirely, and there is nothing but complete and utter black. Where you can’t even see your own hand in front of your face, and the only light (“light”) is the glow of Dark’s aura.

You sit, waiting for him to join you. Take your hand, smile, talk. Kiss and make up.

He stands with his hands behind his back, bathed in the absolute power of his own realm. He looks down on you and smiles.

He hushes you, and the question you were about to ask dies on your lips.

“Quiet, darling. You’re going to open your mind for me and let me in, do you understand?” His words are just as cloying as the darkness that slides over your arms and wraps around your neck. Soft, lulling you into a false sense of security.

This isn’t what you were expecting at all, but you’re not going to disobey.

“Yes, sir,” you reply softly.

He’s making you nervous, the way he looks at you—god, the way he looks at you. You can feel yourself falling, getting lost in his eyes; you sigh and let it happen. It doesn’t feel quite right, you don’t know what this is about, but he knows best. Doesn’t he? He always knows best.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Dark says, a low, hypnotic purr.

“I’m not afraid.” Your tongue feels oddly heavy in your mouth.

“It’s safe to let go.”

“I’m safe with you.”

“Open your mind for me.”

“I…”

“So vulnerable. So gorgeous when you surrender.”

His aura reaches out; you can feel it tangling with your own energy. Your body feels to heavy to move, and you merely observe with absent curiosity as he…

A shudder runs through you, and you breathe out in a heavy rush.

Open. Vulnerable. Surrendered.

Open…

It doesn’t quite make sense, in this place where energy is of equal, if not more, importance than physical being. Because physically he’s doing nothing. Yet his aura tenderly claws into you – your energy, your being – and prises you apart. Just like he promised.

You try to focus on your breaths, thoughts hazy. He cuts all the way down you… metaphorically. It doesn’t make much sense. But you can feel it happening. The way he can get into your head, your soul. Well, that’s not such a surprise. He owns you, of course he can…

His aura prises you open and the darkness of the void curls inside you.

Some part of you wants to struggle – this isn’t normal, this isn’t right – but he has you too deep under his spell. A mindless puppet.

Like being under anaesthetic and watching from out of body as someone performs heart surgery on you, you can only watch him standing like a cruel god as his power breaks you apart and reaches into your very essence.

“Dark?” you try to question. His name barely makes it out, breathy and slurred.

It’s—it’s starting to scare you. The void, the darkness, it’s—it’s _inside you_. Taking over your energy, decaying it. Like rot, gangrene spreading from an infected wound, eating away at everything you are, and you can’t even move. Can’t feel enough to fight, too numb to understand the fear coursing through your veins. It’s eaten up by the corruption anyway.

The darkness, the void, his power; it sinks into you, it’s the blood rushing through your pounding heart, it’s the marrow in your bones, it takes over everything.

Trance-like, hypnotised, helpless, you let Dark saturate your entire being.

Because you don’t exist.

There is only this… thing. You're an extension of his will, and nothing more.

It shifts from just the metaphysical to a real, tangible sensation, and that’s even more terrifying that anything. It’s pressure, a cold static, like a gentle, terrible vice tightening around your head. It starts at the back of your skull and spreads, wrapping around your mind.

You open your eyes and look out into the void. Your eyes. But not you.

It feels like someone – _something _– else looking out.

The darkness clawing inside you and the physical static pressure meet, the corruption hooking into your skin and pulling. It’s not neat, and it’s not pretty; it’s shuddering convulsions, fingers twitching and flexing without you doing controlling it, like he – it – is trying to settle into a new form that hadn’t quite meshed just yet, but all it would take—

You can’t. Oh god, you can’t, _what is he doing to you?_

Panic finally breaks through. Not enough for you to move or pull away, but your breaths quicken, cold sweat sliding down the back of your neck.

You end up hyperventilating, and that’s enough to server the connection.

You jerk away, choking on a shaky sob. “Dark, why—”

“Hush,” he says. His tone is soothing, yet there’s something terse and irritated buried deep beneath the gently command. “Go back to sleep.”

You can feel him trying to drag you back down, get you back into that trance-like state. But you can’t. You _can’t_. You’re shaking too much, too disturbed to go back to being relaxed and open. You wrap your arms around yourself and rock forward.

You don’t want to stay here. It’s not going to work again anyway.

So you stumble to your feet, shaking off the lingering static. Your fingers are still shaking, but at least this time it’s just your own trembling. Your breathing is unsteady.

Dark is still there, of course, but he doesn’t try to stop you as you push past him and head for the same entry point you came from. You’re more than done for the evening.

The light of the world beyond is a welcome sight, every bit the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel.

You freeze as you feel fingers run down the back of your neck, and that same pressure in the back of your skull.

“Do you really think you can run from me? From this?”

Dark’s voice seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. From inside your own head.

How? You’re not even close to being under, he can’t—

“I can do whatever I like. I own you, remember?”

“Dark,” you moan.

The light is right there. If you could just get of the void, maybe…

“If you step out there like this,” Dark murmurs, “there’s no going back. Your soul will be resealed… exactly as it is now.”

Utterly in his thrall, corrupted and poisoned. Entangled with something not quite human.

What choice do you even have? Leave like this, or let him drag you back to—to what? Torture you? Break you? Take you over completely?

Every step you take is agony. It’s like moving through tar, slow, painstaking, fighting yourself and fighting him.

Dark laughs as you step out into reality, stumbling as you suddenly snap back into full awareness of your body. You fall to your knees, head spinning, and you wrap your arms around yourself as if you could pull yourself back together so easily as that.

He’s… he’s gone. At least, you can’t feel him anymore. Which is almost terrifying in itself, when Dark’s been with you for so long.

Evening has faded into night, in the time you’ve been gone. It’s dark in reality as well, still sticky from the summer day’s heat, and you can’t stay out here. You walk quickly, but slow enough still that you can let your shuddering breaths even out.

Instinct drives you to keep wrapping your arms around yourself, until you catch yourself and fight the urge. You rub your arms, as if you could get rid of the sensation of the void eating at you from within.

With space, the further you get away from that horrible place, it feels more and more like a bad dream. You’re shaken, but… not different. Right?

Even though it feels like Dark cut you open, corrupted you, and stitched you back together like some kind of Frankenstein’s monster.

It doesn’t feel different, at any rate. It doesn’t feel different, and yet you can’t shake the gnawing fear that whatever came out of the void at the end of that isn’t quite the same as what went in.


End file.
